Harry Potter's Series of Unfortunate Events
by The Amber Author
Summary: What if Harry, Ron, and Hermione went through the events of 'The Series of Unfortunate Events? Watch as the three struggle with their life at Count Riddle's residence after their parents' death. The problem? The evil Count Riddle is trying to steal their family fortune, and the three friends can't let that happen! Non-magic, AU.
1. Chapter 1

If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off not reading this. Not only does this story have no happy ending, but is has no happy beginning, and few happy things in between. This is because not very many happy things happened in the lives of the three youngsters.

Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter were intelligent children and they were charming, and resourceful, and had pleasant facial features, but they were extremely unlucky, and most everything that happened to them was rife with misfortune, misery, and despair. I'm sorry, but that is how that story goes.

Their misfortune began one day at Briny Beach. The three youngsters, whose bond was so close they were as good as siblings, lived in huge mansions a stone-throw away from each other in the heart of a dirty, busy city, and occasionally, their parents allowed them to take a rickety cart to the seashore alone, as long as they were back by dinner.

Ron, the eldest, was sitting by the shore, skipping rocks. He was a tall, thin boy with wavy red hair. He was only a few months older than his two other companions. Ron was of a very strategic nature. He was good at planning and thinking, and was remarkably good at chess, which he liked to brag about because most fourteen year olds weren't as good. Ron also had several biological siblings- five older brothers and a little sister who enjoyed travelling around the world. His mother and father, however, were content with setting in their busy little city with their son, Ron, who was too close with his friends to leave. They welcomed their other children open arms whenever they came back from their travels. Ron had travelled with them a lot when he was young, so he knew much about different landscapes and several foreign countries.

Hermione, on the other hand, was a bit younger than Ron, though she was also fourteen. She had frizzy brown hair and soft, chocolate brown eyes. She was rather pretty, too, if one discounted her bushy forest for hair. If you knew Hermoine well, you'd know she was thinking right then and there, because her hair was sweeping across her face, and she was buried too deep in thoughts to mind. Hermione loved books and knowledge- generally everything she could get her hands on. She was a very clever girl, and not superstitious in the least- she didn't believe in horoscopes and such, you see. Mr and Mrs Granger, Hermione's parents, were also the city's best dentists, so perhaps we should refer to them as Dr, but that would confuse us as we wouldn't be aware of who the male and who the female would be.

The last person in their cheery trio, was the youngest, Harry Potter. He was a few months younger than both Ron and Hermione, which annoyed him to no end since his birthday was yet to come and he was still thirteen as it was. Harry was known for being stubborn, hot-headed, but also surprisingly observant. His green emeralds of eyes spotted things beneath his raven-toned bangs that no other normal person would have. If he had his glasses on, that was. Harry's own biological parents were murdered long ago by a psychopathic serial killer, whose identity none of the police couldn't figure out, when Harry was but an infant. However, two men by the names of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had raised him like their own son, and he had a relatively happy childhood with his friends. Black Mansion was right in the middle, with Ron and Hermione's homes on either side.

The beach was cloudy and the sky was dull, but the three friends weren't too bothered; because while Ron did enjoy sitting under the sun and gobbling down ice cream, Briny Beach was horribly crowded during good days, and the trio could barely find a place to set down their blankets and mats. But while dull and grey, the beach was vacant and the three had it all to themselves.

"Hey, Ron, you said Fred and George were coming tomorrow?" Harry asked mischievously. Fred and George, Ron's prankster twins, were Harry's favorite Weasleys after Ron himself….and maybe, not that he'd admit it, Ginny.

"That, or tomorrow." Ron assured his excited friends. "I think Bill's coming with them, too, but I heard he's a little too attached to Egypt now, he's even considering settling there with Fleur." Fleur was Bill's beautiful French girlfriend.

Harry found this information difficult to digest- he couldn't imagine the Weasleys settling down in place. He had managed to convince Sirius and Remus to allow him to go to Spain next with Fred and George. Remus had a hard time believing they were capable of taking care of Harry, but many weeks of puppy-dog eyes from Sirius (who was a born trouble-maker himself) and Harry paid off in the end.

"Well, you can't have honestly expected him to play around-the-world-in-eighty-days all his life, have you? He's bound to start a family now…"

Padfoot, Harry's large black dog, barked, as if agreeing to Hermion's statement.

Harry rolled his eyes and went back to scanning the horizon- his eyes narrowed as he saw a plump figure coated in mist, walking toward them. "Hey, who's that?" He asked, frowning slightly in concentration.

Ron and Hermione followed his eyes. The figure slowly made its way out of the fog- the three sighed in relief; it was only Mr Slughorn.

Mr Slughorn was a plump man in a green cloak that was almost swept off his shoulders as he walked down Briny Beach to the three children and the bewildered dog. He was their parents' teacher at school. He apparently taught chemistry, until he retired and started a career in finances.

"How'd you do, Mr Slughorn?" Hermione asked him politely, standing up and dusting sand off her skirt as Harry and Ron followed her example. Ron raised an awkward hand and grinned sheepishly.

"Fine, fine…" Mr Slughorn said sadly. He took out a napkin and sneezed into it while the three children stared at him in confusion, wondering why he was here. Mr Slughorn wasn't the kind to wander around a beach just for pleasure. Especially not on such a cloudy, chilly night. Mr Slughorn's immune system was so very weak, and he got sick rather easily.

"Er, bless you, sir." Harry said reluctantly and waited for Slughorn to stop sneezing.

"Oh, and to you, dears." He said even more miserably. The three exchanged a look- something was wrong….

"I'm afraid I have terrible news," he said. "Your guardians…have perished in a fire." He finished morbidly, waiting for a reaction.

"What?" Ron squeaked, eyes wide.

"Perished, means died." Slughorn said patiently.

"We _know_ what 'perished' means!" Hermione said in frustration. "But surely, you don't mean…" She did, indeed, know what 'perished' meant, but she couldn't fathom or understand what Mr Slughorn was trying to say.

"Yes," he said, a glazed look taking over his face. "They have all died in a huge fire. But worry not, children- I am in charge of your finances, and I can handle the fortune your parents left you- their will states that you be passed down to the clostest relatives- all of you, since poor Harry here has no living relatives, and dear Hermione hasn't any either. It appears your families have- _had_ incredible trust in the Weasleys. You shall stay in my house while we find a suitable guardian."

The next few days were nothing short of miserable for the children. If you have lost someone so close to you that you feel they are an essential part of your life, then you can understand how it feels- if not, then there is no use explaining what a terrible, terrible feeling it is.

But it was ten times worse for Ron, Hermione, and Harry, because they had lost all three of their families at the same time. Mr Slughorn had taken them to the ruins- the only living things that survived were Harry's pet owl, Hedwig, and Crookshanks, Hermione's ginger cat.

Ron tried his best to argue with Mr Slughorn and tell him he had several siblings and many, many relatives who would take them in, but Mr Slughorn had told him that since his youngest brothers were sixteen, meaning legally old enough to move into their own homes, they were free to stay wherever they wanted. They were, however, not legally old enough to accept guardianship over three kids. He wove his way through excuses and told them that the other Weasleys were not close enough, and that the wills clearly state that the three were to be sent to the closest relative.

The three dragged through their days miserably- Mrs Slughorn was a very annoying woman with wispy white hair- she bought them itchy, horrible clothes and her cooking was always half-burnt at best.

"I have finally found the suitable guardian for you," Mr Slughorn announced one day, over dinner. "His name is Count Riddle."

"I don't know any cousin called Riddle." Ron said stubbornly. He had formed a sort of enmity with Mr Slughorn a refused to speak to him at all. He couldn't understand why he wasn't allowed to see his other siblings, who had undoubtedly heard of the news and were trying their best to see their younger brother….or were they?

"Sirius is distantly related to the Weasleys, and he hasn't heard of this Riddle bloke either." Harry muttered glumly.

"He is a very distant relative- either a third cousin four times removed, or a fourth cousin three times removed- but he's the closest geographically."

"You're going to make us live with some Count person we don't even know?" Ron asked, angrily, his eyes going red with fury.

"Now, now, Ronald- I'm sure Count Riddle will take very good care of you. He may also be quite entertaining- he's an actor, I hear."

"Actor?" Hermione sniffed. "I thought he was a Count?"

"He is an actor _and_ a Count. Now, I don't mean to cut dinner short, but you'll have to pack for tomorrow.

"We're going _tomorrow?_ To the house of some guy we don't even know?"

"Harry, Count Riddle is a well-respected person….or so I am told. Please, go pack your things."

Ron and Harry both stood abruptly and angrily, not wanting to eat their nearly burnt steak anyway. Hermione got up shakily. The three shared dark looks before heading upstairs to pack, heading toward worse luck.

 **Hehe..I read in a movie review that the reviewer thought if Harry, Hermione, and Ron were siblings and Voldemort was an evil guy aiming to steal their fortune, it would turn out something like this. I got the idea from there….All of it is Lemony Snicket's and JK Rowlings, none is mine!**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared miserably at the passing building as they were helplessly dragged from their old life into a new, horrible, unfortunate one.

Once Mr Slughorn's home faded out of view, Ron slumped on the seat and turned his head around from the window, frowning in despair. Hermione bit her lip anxiously and Harry fidgeted in his seat.

Mr Slughorn's automobile lumbered upon the cobbled street of the city, carrying the children further and further away from their old homes.

As they passed horse-drawn carriages and motor-cycles, Ron was still stubbornly refusing to even look at Mr Slughorn, so hot was his rage. Harry was stroking Hedwig and patting Padfoot, the only true remainders of their old lives apart from Crookshanks, Hermione's ginger cat. They passed a fountain, a construction area, and cheerful park where children such as themselves played, and a large, gloomy looking building.

Just when it seemed like they could have gone on forever, Mr Slughorn stopped the car, pausing to release a hurricane of coughs and sneezes into his handkerchief.

"Here we are," said Mr Slughorn in a voice undoubtedly meant to be cheerful. Ron huffed almost inaudibly, and Hermione scratched Crookshanks' ear to vent her nervousness.

"Your new home," Slughorn continued jovially. Harry frowned as though he seriously doubted this.

But then the three newly-orphaned friends stepped out of the car and reconsidered the off-putting thoughts.

The house that stood in front of them was, quite literally, the most pleasant house on the block. Its bricks were smartly polished and squeaky-clean, and its windows gleamed under the blazing sun. It was quite impressive, and, they had to admit, seemed like a good home. Ron was not ready to forgive Mr Slughorn for whatever reason- it was almost as if staying angry at him made the burden of his grief a lot less heavy.

The door opened in a strangely convenient time, and out came a smart-looking lady with brown hair and a kind face. She placed a potted plant beside the small patches of posies on either side of her doorsteps. Then she looked up, and her eyes lit in surprise as she seemed to spot the children for the first time.

"Oh, hello there." She said brightly to them, waving her hand in a friendly gesture- a phrase which here means, 'an action which made the three anxious youngsters feel slightly more comfortable'.

"Hello," Hermione began politely.

"Hi," Harry said half-heartedly, pacing Padfoot on the floor the same moment Hermione put Crookshanks down.

"Hey," Ron said, though only reluctantly at best.

"You must be the three new children moving in with Count Riddle, eh?" she asked cheerfully.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, we are." Harry said, trying his best to put on a small smile. "Are you his wife?"

The woman's face adopted a dark expression- a phrase which here means, that 'she looked as if the very idea of someone marrying Count Riddle was absurd'.

"Oh no, I'm Justice Strauss." She told them firmly, as though afraid her identity would change if she didn't bother to make it known.

"Justice Strauss?" Ron blurted out, having not heard of such a strange name before.

"It's not her real name," said Hermione with an automatic roll of her eyes. "It just means she works for the law. As a judge of sorts. Is that correct, Madam?"

"Absolutely, dear." She said, giving Hermione a large grin. "My real name is Amelia Bones, though. I'm Count Riddle's neighbor- you may visit me any time you please, of course. I do say, my niece Susan comes here quite a bit, you might even be friends." She beamed at them.

Feeling slightly disappointed, the three struggled to smile back, Ron wrestling a frown all the way. He knew he had his siblings, but not when Mr Slughorn was so determined to continue keeping the youngest Weasley boy away from them. The question; _why?_

"But….if you don't live here Mrs, then…." Hermione trailed off and followed Mrs Bone's eyes. Harry and Ron were quick to follow.

Across from Mrs Bone's attractive house lay its alternate version- an expression which means herein, that 'the house did not have patches of flowers and was not attractive or welcoming in the least'.

It was, simply putting it, quite gloomy. The children could not say it was _dirty_ or _filthy-looking_ specifically, but it was so dark that you wouldn't notice if it was. Several towers rose around it, and one especially long one shot out of the earth and into the misty sky.

The three children gulped in sync.

This is your chance to shut off this dreary, miserable story. Who knows, if you shut it down now, then maybe you can imagine that Hermione, Ron and Harry were not forced to walk toward the dark and scary house that they now knew was Count Riddle's. You can imagine that instead, Mr Slughorn had come to his senses and agreed to take the three of them to one of Ron's siblings, who were at that very moment wondering where their brother and his friends were. But these wishful figments are just that- figments.

If you chose to continue with this unfortunate tale- and I certainly hope you did not -then I will have to continue this tale, never straying from the truth as I have sworn not to.

Instead of driving them off into the opposite direction as quickly as possible, Mr Slughorn, eager to get back to work so he could in return, get back to detecting fake signatures on bank checks, hurried over across the block, to Mr Riddle's house.

"Maybe it's not as bad as it seems?" Hermione offered, trying to smile weakly. Crookshanks' face twisted more than ever, which proved exactly what her furred friend thought of this.

"Right, maybe." Harry said uncomfortably. Padfoot barked, and Hedwig hooted from her spot on Harry's shoulder.

"Of course," Ron said, not convinced in the very least.

When someone tries to be optimistic in the midst a pessimistic situation- pessimistic, here, is fancy word meaning 'not optimistic at all' – then one can use the expression, 'looking for the silver lining of a black-cloud'. Of course, this expression has nothing whatsoever to do with rain clouds and silver lines, but it simply means looking at the positives of the situation instead of the negatives.

The three newly-orphaned children couldn't, try as they might, find a silver lining to their dark cloud of rotten luck.

'Well,' Hermione tried to reason with herself. 'the house looks rather old. Maybe it has an ancient history of its own that I can discover.'

'Well,' Ron said, trying to imitate his friend and search for silver among a sea of black. 'maybe…maybe..I dunno. Maybe something good will come out of this.'

'Well,' Harry thought to himself, looking around the house. 'Maybe Count Riddle will let me look out of one of the towers so I don't only have to see the interior of this terrible house all day. '

Although these far too optimistic thoughts were stampeding through the brains of our three orphans- and by 'stampeding', I mean that they were rushing through their minds in a figurative manner, and i do not mean that the thoughts were running a parade through their brains, at least as far as my research goes –they were careful not to get their hopes too high up.

With a dignified expression, Mr Slughorn reached to knock, then pulled out a handkerchief out of his pocked and sneezed. He was still suffering from the cold he had gotten a few days ago.

Hermione was so deep in thoughts she nearly forgot to say 'Bless you,'.

Mr Slughorn reached to knock again, scarcely looking at the terrified looks the children were exchanging behind his back.

His fist made contact with the wood, and the moment it did, the door slowly creaked open.

 **AN: I just realized that Hermione is the eldest. Oh well. That works in my favor. In case you want to know, this will hopefully have a much more satisfactory ending than 'The End'. I'm still thinking about who the Quagmires will be replaced by- I'm thinking Neville, Luna, and…someone. Oh, oh well.**

 **Susan Bones will be in this fanfic, for sure!**

 **Here are the review replies that kept me going!  
**

**RRs**

 **Krystal: I will try to follow the events of the books, hopefully, but not quite as closely as possible. I don't want it to be the same story with different characters . The entire point of this- if, by any chance, the strategy of Ron, the knowledge of Hermione, and the observations of Harry replaced Violet's inventing skills, Klaus' own knowledge, and Sunny's knack for biting, and later cooking. Hopefully, I'll find myself right where 'The End' takes place, but certain events will definitely change. Hah, that's a good question! See, as I will explain further next chapter, the Weasleys, Grangers, and Sirius and Remus have involved the three of them, especially, in a bond of all but official siblinghood. But the difference is that Count Olaf/Riddle can't get the fortune by killing all of them off, because, ta-ta, Ron has six other siblings! Indeed, the play will work in a different way, so Hermione will hopefully not end by almost marrying Voldemort, but the scheme** _ **will**_ **be disguised as a play. No, I stick to the characters' personalities as firmly as I can, so I Count Riddle will not be as messy as Olaf is. Thank you for this review, and I don't pull a 'The End' on you- a phrase which here means, disappoint you beyond possibility ;).**

 **Taylor Hepworth: Thanks, Tay! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS CHAPTER TOO ;0**


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